


Keeping Secrets

by RascalBot



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Got your back, M/M, Peripheral Bitty and Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9140272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RascalBot/pseuds/RascalBot
Summary: How to support your friends who are dating without letting them know that you know: a guide by Larissa Duan.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justaphage (DancingDragon42)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingDragon42/gifts).



> I love Lardo a lot and really wanted to know her thought process during this. 
> 
> I hope you had a 'swawesome holiday, justaphage, and an equally 'swawesome new year!
> 
> Disclaimer: This is an unofficial fan work. All characters and places and all spoken dialogue in the final section are the work of Ngozi Ukazu

Lardo typically knew all the secrets. This was for three reasons. First was that people told her things, because they knew she’d be discreet, or at least discreet enough that whatever the issue was wouldn’t get back to the parties involved, or at least not through her. Second was that, while the whole team knew she was a dry sass badass and beer pong champion, she still had the talent of sitting still and shutting up, something none of the rest of the team had mastered, and it was amazing how often people forgot she was there. And thirdly, the boys had no idea how thin the Haus walls were. Her bed shared a wall with Ransom and Holster’s staircase and what little gossip she failed to pick up they invariably found and the small percentage of _that_ that they didn’t share with her in their dish sessions she overheard from the comfort of her mattress. Everyone insisted that girls were the gossipy ones, but those two kept secrets like a sieve.

So finding Bitty’s notes on her bean bag, pages open and proclaiming his affection for one particular Falconer’s player (and indicating, in cursive text around a heart bearing the Falcs logo, his intention to skype with one “bf” later), was something of an unusual experience, in that she’d had no idea.

Well, _no idea_ was a strong choice of words. She’d known for a while that he was pretty invested in Jack Zimmermann’s health and happiness; they spent a lot of time together and he probably mentioned Jack at least twice in every conversation, not to mention the absurd number of Falconers Face-Off videos he’d apparently been watching. He’d been so much happier this semester –

So had Jack, come to think of it. Jack had been happier than Lardo had ever seen him.  And there was that time that Shits had cornered him about his “girlfriend” and Jack had looked so awkward that Lardo had rescued him immediately. And Bits had been visiting “his cousin at Brown” an awful lot for a family member whose name he never got around to mentioning –

Oh geez, she’d been _blind_. She’d been so wrapped up in her senior project she hadn’t even noticed when two of her best friends had started _dating_.

And of course the first thing she wanted to do was tell Shitty. Because first and second of all, Eric Bittle and Jack Zimmermann were dating respectively, and third of all they were dating _each other_ , and that was frankly _adorable_. But most importantly, this was a big deal, for Bits as his first relationship and for Jack’s career, and she wanted to have their backs, but… they hadn’t wanted her to know.

Lardo’s phone vibrated its way across her desk. _Lardooooo! Did I leave my notes in your room, girl?_

She reached out and casually flipped the notebook closed. _I think so?_

How did you go about being happy for and supporting the new relationship between two people who didn’t know you knew and who wanted to actively keep it a secret from you?

Her phone buzzed again. _Oh thank goodness! I’m coming right back_.

Lardo hovered her thumbs over her phone, wondering if she should confess that she _knew_. What constituted having his back in this situation? Would Shits know?  If he did he probably had it written in the bylaws somewhere. She wondered if she had time to run down to the basement and check behind the water heater. No, that was dumb. 

The door swung open downstairs and a moment later Bitty’s sneakers were hurrying up the stairs. Lardo settled back into her desk chair, pulling her feet up underneath her as she snagged her sketchpad from her desk and put on the air of someone who had not moved since Bits had been in there last.

Hasty fingers rapped at her door. “Lardo?”

Ultimately, she already knew the answer. Having their backs meant letting them tell her in their own time. “C’mon in, Bits.”

Bitty came rushing in, looking harried and tired. “Ugh! Thanks, girl – I had to run all the way back here from South Quad and I just know Professor – no, I’ve got to run! Bye Lardo!”

“See you, Bits.” The door swung closed and Bitty’s footsteps pounded down the stairs. A moment later the Haus door slammed again. “I know about your secret boyfriend,” Lardo added. The empty Haus did not respond.

\--

“—not like Murray and Hall would actually _cut_ him.”

“Probably not? He’s still playing better than when he was a freshman. I just wish he’d tell us what’s going _on_.”

Ransom and Holster’s heavy footsteps still didn’t mask their low voices. Lardo paused in cutting fabric strips at their tones.

“Do you think there’s _any_ chance he _actually_ has a cousin at Brown?”

“Listen, we’ve known Bits for three years, right? Is there a single cousin of his whose favorite flavor of jam we don’t know?”

“Right. Right. Well… let’s just keep letting him know we’ve got his…”

The voices trailed off as they reached the top of the stairs.

Next practice, Lardo watched warm-ups with Coach Hall from the sidelines. “So Bittle’s been getting better about getting hit,” she mentioned.

Hall nodded. “He’s slowing down, though. Last few practices he’s been half asleep.” He turned to Lardo. “Do you know if something’s going on with him?”

“Oh, just bad luck. All his classes scheduled major assignments due the same week, like, 50% of your grade type stuff. He’s been up all hours.” Lardo waved a hand. “Plus, you know, he’d promised his aunt he’d help out his cousin at Brown. Don’t worry, coach, hockey’s still his priority. Things’ll calm down pretty soon.”

“Oh.” Hall raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’m glad to hear it’s getting better. We’ll need him in top form for our next game.” He turned his softened gaze back onto the ice. “Thanks, Larissa.”

“No problem, coach.” Lardo watched Bitty racing Nursey around the rink. He looked exhausted.

\--

Lardo was out of her room for thirty seconds and missed two calls from Shitty in that time alone. She texted him. _What’s going on?_

The response was immediate. _Get on fucking skype Lards I’ve got some SHIT to fucking DISCUSS._

Shitty was already mid-sentence when his grainy picture appeared on her screen. “—fucking ethical dilemma here, Lards, and it’s not like any ethics school covers the fucking _minutiae_ of interpersonal—”

Lardo sighed. “Shits. What’s happening.”

Shitty took a deep breath, sending static crackling through the microphone. “Okay. So. Hypothetically, if you found out something about someone that that someone hadn’t told you and probably didn’t want you to know because it’s the kind of thing that they _would_ have told you if they didn’t have some reason to keep it secret, which they _do_ because they work in a fucking culture of heteronormativity surrounding pretty much everything but especially the culture to which I am referring, and—”

Lardo held up a hand. “Shits.”

Shitty took another breath. “Okay. I was crashing at Jack’s place last night—”

It clicked. “Is this about Bitty?” Lardo asked.

Shitty’s eyes widened. “You knew! You fucking _knew!_ ”

“Just since last week.” Lardo shrugged. “And yeah, they didn’t tell me, either. Or anyone.”

“Holy shit.” Shitty ran a hand across his face. “They are fucking bad at keeping secrets, huh.”

“I dunno. It took us this long.” Lardo paused. “Although I don’t know how long it’s been happening, I guess. So you’re wondering what to do?”

“Shit, _yeah_. I mean, I’m just skyping you on the DL while Jack’s in the shower because I just went into his kitchen and saw all these little post-its in Bits’s handwriting wishing him luck before games with all these little hearts—”

“What? _Adorable_.”

“Lards! I mean, _yes_ , but _not the point_. Like, what do I tell him? I mean he’s got to _know_ that I’d have his fucking back on this, and obviously I get why it was a secret but I kind of thought they’d tell _us_ if something like this happened, you know? And— and you know what’s fucking me up, Lards? I didn’t even know he liked men? I mean he went on all those screw dates and he never asked about dudes and I just _assumed_ , like, I get it, hockey is homophobic but this was _Samwell_ and I was _me_.”

“I know, Shits. Listen, let’s do this when you’re not in his fucking apartment, okay?”

“But what do I say when he gets out of the shower?”

“ _Nothing_. Look, Shits, I know it’s your thing to hash things out verbally, but it’s not Jack’s, and we have to let him tell us when he’s ready. Him and Bits both. Right? That’s how we have their backs right now.”

“Right. Yeah.” Shitty rubbed his forehead. “Of course. Of _course_. They have to take their fucking time, right? Obviously. And, _shit_ , Lards, you should have seen these notes. They are so fucking saccharine I’ve probably got _diabetes_. They’re happy. I’m not gonna fuck with it.” He grinned. “Just when did you get to be so good at managing fucking personal confessions, anyway?”

“Learned it from you, you nerd. When all those people were coming out to you my frog year.” Lardo grinned back.

“Shit, yeah. Feels like a lifetime ago.” Shitty sighed into the microphone again, assaulting her eardrums with the crackle of static. “So, you know how I was always nakedly in Jack’s room? I shouldn’t bring up Bits, but, like, in what way can I casually apologize for—oh shit, he’s out. I gotta go.”  

\--

Lardo skyped Jack a few days later. “Zimmermann! What’s going on?”

“Hey, Lardo.” Jack looked tired (Bitty had managed to off-handedly mention that the Falconers were practicing that day) but he was smiling. “How’s the team?”

“Same as usual. Rans and Holtzy are keeping the team together. The Haus had some more bats in the walls last week. You should’ve heard Nursey scream; Dex is _still_ talking about it.”

“Hah, I’ll bet.”

“I heard Shitty visited you the other day. He didn’t trash your place, did he?”

“Shits? Nah, I think he was too tired.” Jack grinned. “It was cool to hang out with him some more. Oh, and he’s definitely going soft. He told me he loved me like eight times that night.”

“Well, he misses you.”

“Yeah, I appreciated the sentiment.”  

“Hey, you know, he’s coming down to visit soon – not this weekend but next weekend. No party or anything, just hanging out. Think you can make an appearance?”

“Ah, probably not. I’ve got a roadie that weekend.” Jack gave her a rueful smile. “I’ll try and make it down soon, though.”

“Just so we don’t forget what your face looks like. Not that we could, what with seeing it on TV all the time.” Lardo gave him her most sincere stare. “Seriously though, you know you can come up anytime, right? This Haus is still a home, and all that. Even if you just want to low-key hang out, not for a party or anything, we won’t think anything of it if you just wander in.”

She thought Jack brightened a little. “Yeah, for sure. Thanks, Lardo.”

She was probably lying. The tadpoles might lose their shit if Jack Zimmermann wandered in. But that wasn’t a very got-your-back-y thing to say.

\--

Lardo overheard Ransom and Holster whispering as they passed her door on the way to the attic stairs.  

“—no _wonder_ he’s been so—”

“—didn’t they _tell_ —”

“—fucking _career_ —”

“— _cousin at Brown!_ —”

Lardo appreciated that they were trying to be discreet, but Holster whispered like most people shouted. She caught them as they were about to head up the attic stairs.  “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Ransom declared loudly. “There is no thing!”

Holster laughed his most casual laugh. “What my esteemed co-captain _means_ is that we’re discussing possible plays for—”

Lardo gave them an unimpressed stare. “I already know about Jack and Bits.”

“Oh _thank god_.” Ransom’s whole body relaxed. “What the _fuck_ , right?”

“Not what the fuck like it’s bad—” Holster amended.

“Right,” Ransom agreed, “what the fuck like _when did this happen_?”

“At least since October, right?”

“Shit, probably longer! Bits has been weirdly evasive all semester, he’s only been here like half the weekends—”

Lardo shrugged. “It’s been a little while. How’d you find out?”

Ransom and Holster exchanged a glance. “That, uh, that’s not the point,” Holster said finally.

“The _point_ is,” Ransom added, “why didn’t they tell us?”

“Because Jack’s a _pro athlete_ ,” Holster replied, “coming out would be _career suicide_.”

“Coming out to the _public_ , maybe, not to _us_ —”

“What do we do?” Holster asked, turning to Lardo. “Do we tell them? Did you tell them you knew? Who else knows?”

“In reverse order: Shits knows, I didn’t tell them, and if you ask me, you don’t tell them,” Lardo said simply.

“So we, what, lie to them?” Ransom asked, brow furrowed.

“I get it,” Lardo agreed. “I want to talk to them too. But they didn’t tell us for a reason, and whatever that reason, it’s _their_ choice. Right?”

“Yeah, but…” Ransom began.

“We… we want to support them,” Holster finished.

 “But you’re right,” Holster continued. “We don’t want to make it weird.”

“I mean, they’re obviously really happy,” Ransom added. “We can’t interfere with that.”

Lardo nodded. “We have their backs,” she said. “Whether or not they know it.”

Ransom and Holster nodded resolutely and simultaneously, and fist-bumped without looking. No one knew how they did that.

“The pies are almost done,” came Bitty’s voice, accompanied by his footsteps as he came up the stairs. “If someone—” he stopped, and gave them suspicious looks. “What are y’all talking about?”

There was an embarrassed pause, and then Adam Birkholtz earned himself a metaphorical medal. “Bits!” he boomed.  “Back me up! Fucking _Ransom_ has never _once_ heard the _Hamilton_ soundtrack.”

“I’ve been _busy_ ,” Ransom protested, not missing a beat. “I haven’t got time to listen to _show tunes_ all day!”

“This is _not_ just show tunes!” Holster retorted. “This is a _cultural phenomenon_. Even Lardo knows and she only listens to weird indie music!”

“Oh, well…” Bitty struggled to suppress a smile. “I’m not angry, Ransom, but I am disappointed.”

“You are all _weird_ ,” Ransom declared.

Holster strode around the corner to join Bitty on the stairs, throwing a long arm around his shoulders. “You’ve got the whole thing, right? We need to initiate my hopeless co-captain at once.”

“Okay, but this better not be like the time you spent a month chasing me with that one song about butts.” Ransom followed them down the stairs.

“That song is a classic!” They disappeared down the stairs. “We’ve got the dishes. You bake, I’ll wash. Rans, you dry…”

Lardo nodded to herself and slipped back into her room.

\--

“Guys.” Shitty’s voice was tinny over Skype. “They really are _adorable_.”

“They are!” Ransom agreed. “I never thought about it before? But they’re, like, the _perfect_ couple.”

“I hope Jack isn’t feeling too pressured,” Holster added. “It’s obvious Bits is having a hard time.”

“Ah, geez…” Shitty shook his head. “It must suck, like, being closeted all over again. I’ve been texting Jack when the fucking _pretend journalists_ go on about him and Parson, just to distract him – how’s Bits handling it?”

“He hasn’t said anything,” Holster answered. “We’ve been, you know, there for him.”

“Do you think they’re ever going to tell us?” Ransom asked.

 Lardo shrugged. “It’s tough, with Jack in the league. Until they do, we just have to—”

The boys nodded. “Have their backs,” they chorused.

\--

“Well,” Bitty laughed, “I guess all that secrecy around the team was for nothing.”

“Naw!” Holster protested hurriedly, “Not for nothing! That was, uh, _perfect secrecy_!”

“For the record, Bits?” Ransom added. “I _totally still believe_ you have a cousin at Brown.”

“And yeah,” Lardo agreed, “totally not for nothing. You guys seemed so happy together… everyone could see that. None of use wanted to mess that up.”

“I mean,” said Shitty, “Brahs. We all wanted to have your back on this.”

Lardo grinned into her coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> Deleted scene: 
> 
> Jack: Oh, don't look in my fridge, Shits, it's, uh, a mess  
> Shitty: Brah, I have such a weird relationship with kitchens lately? Like, obviously, a woman's place is not in the kitchen, but if I go into the kitchen specifically to subvert that fucking stereotype then aren't I still marching to the patriarchy's drum? And if I go in a woman's kitchen am I like invading her one typically masculinity-free space? Anyway I try to avoid kitchens altogether these days  
> Jack: um... let's... order pizza  
> Shitty, internally: _nailed it_


End file.
